


If You're That Way Inclined

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: Raphael Bingo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Balthazar (Supernatural) - Freeform, Bartholomew (Supernatural) - Freeform, Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Brainwashed Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural) - Freeform, Civil War in Heaven (Supernatural), Dean Winchester - Freeform, Fix-It of Sorts, Hannah (Supernatural) - Freeform, Hinted Raphael/Sam/Castiel in the future, Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Married Under False Pretenses, Memory Alteration, Naomi (Supernatural) - Freeform, Other, Peace Treaty Negotiations, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Sam Winchester, Raphael Has A Conscience, Sam Winchester's Cage Trauma Scars, Sam Winchester's Love Is Powerful Stuff, Voicemail, brainwashing recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-01-29 04:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21404293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: When he woke up that morning, he was Sam Dynastes, husband to his incredible spouse Raphael Dynastes. He was pleasantly surprised when Raphael came home from work early, more than ready to help his spouse relax and unwind from the stress of their demanding job. Remembering that Raphael was an Archangel and he was Sam Winchester was a surprise Sam wasn't sure how to feel about. In the meantime, however, they have a war to stop and a peace treaty to negotiate, and Sam won't be sidelined this time... not when it's his best friend and his spouse at the negotiation table.
Relationships: Raphael/Sam Winchester
Series: Raphael Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543060
Comments: 17
Kudos: 42





	If You're That Way Inclined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hyrulehearts1123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/gifts), [sageclover61](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/gifts), [Karategrl80](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karategrl80/gifts).

> Written for a randomly-appearing SaRaph prompt on tumblr, which then needed a follow-up, which then felt incomplete without the rest of this story.
> 
> Also written for the Raphael Bingo square: Fluff and/or Angst.

**A**FTERNOON SUNLIGHT FILTERED through the slats in the blinds that covered the kitchen window by the time Sam heard his spouse arriving home. He was already smiling when he turned even as he scanned the trim figure in the dark suit. Raphael always woke and prepared for the day well before Sam was able to drag himself out of bed, so he used the opportunity to check for visual cues to how his mate was identifying today. Hair straight but left loose, make-up, pencil skirt and low heels… Sam reached his wife and wrapped his arms around her.

“Welcome home, love. Long day?” he asked as he felt the tension in her frame that slowly relaxed as her arms came up to return the embrace.

“That’s one way of putting it,” the low and much-loved voice murmured. “Sometimes I don’t know if my subordinates have the sense given a lemming between the lot of them.”

“That’s probably a universal concern,” Sam joked, and felt a thrill of pleasure at the soft chuckle that vibrated against his chest. Raphael laughed so rarely that it was always a good thing when he managed to amuse his mate. “But you got the problem sorted?”

“It’s an… on-going process,” his wife temporized. “But there’s nothing I can do about it from my office, so I came here.”

“Do you have to go out again soon?” Sam asked, tamping down on the disappointment. “If you’re this stressed out about whatever it is, you could probably do with a break.”

“Did you have something in mind?” Raphael asked, tilting her head back to look up at Sam, more curious than sultry. Cuddles it was.

“Dinner’s going to be a little while longer, but I don’t have to stand over it right now,” he said, guiding her over to the couch and gently helping her out of her suit jacket, laying the garment across the back where it wouldn’t wrinkle. “Sit with me a bit? Let’s see if I can work some of those knots out of your shoulders.”

“Alright,” Raphael acquiesced, sitting on the couch and turning her back to Sam. She sat stiffly, as she always did at first, but as Sam put his large hands and all the skills his old soccer coach had instilled in him to work, she relaxed further, leaning back into his touch and sighing. “Your hands are very strong….”

“So you keep telling me,” Sam teased gently, focusing on one particularly tense knot just inside her left shoulderblade. “There are some days I’m convinced you married me so you’d have access to my hands whenever you want.”

“And what reason did you marry me, I wonder?” Raphael wondered, her voice soft enough that Sam could tell she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He still paused in his massage and wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest as he kissed her hair.

“I married you because of your compassion, your determination, your patience and that fire inside you that keeps you going even when the world seems to test you more than usual,” he murmured. “I married you because every day is a new surprise and a new adventure with you, and because I know that if we’re together we can face anything. I married you, Raphael Dynastes, because I love you.”

“I…” Raphael’s breath hitched in her chest, and she turned in his embrace to lean against him. “I don’t know if I deserve your love, Sam….”

“Deserving or not, it’s mine to give,” Sam told her, tightening his embrace when his words made her sob. “Raphael, love, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing… everything… Sam, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry….”

“Raphael?”

“Sam,” she swallowed and pulled back, and Sam’s concern ratcheted up a notch at the tears on her cheeks. “How long has it been since you last saw your brother?”

“My… brother?” Sam blinked and frowned, casting his mind back to try and recall. “Not since we were kids and he aged out of the system ahead of me. Why?”

“Because that’s not true,” came the shocking answer. Sam stared into Raphael’s too-bright eyes as she continued, “You last saw your brother a week ago, right before you were abducted. Your name is Sam Winchester… and I am the Archangel Raphael.”

And Sam Winchester _remembered_.

**R**APHAEL SAT ON the couch in the living room of this constructed apartment tucked away in a corner of Heaven. They hadn’t believed it at first when Bartholomew had explained what he and Naomi had done. Catching the younger Winchester alone and unguarded? Rewriting his memories to make him loyal to Raphael as a hostage against the traitor Castiel? It seemed impossible!

Sam was pacing a line between the kitchen and the end of the couch, the light of his soul flaring and flashing. Raphael could see the remnants of the damage that soul had taken from Lucifer _and_ Michael, and they felt sickened at the evidence of their brothers’ capacity for cruelty. The damage appeared to be at least somewhat healed now, which was a relief. Raphael wondered if that was a side effect of the memory transplant or just the persistent exposure to the light of Heaven before deciding it didn’t matter. He was healing, which meant at least some good had come of this debacle.

“Was any of it real?” Sam asked abruptly, coming to a halt before the couch without looking at Raphael, his voice low and tight.

“The events of the past twenty-seven minutes from the moment I arrived and you greeted me,” Raphael answered, glancing down when the muscle in Sam’s jaw jumped. “Your actions, my reactions. I cannot say for certain how much of your own reactions and emotions were genuine or due to whatever memories Naomi implanted.”

“You don’t know what Naomi implanted?”

“No,” Raphael shook their head. “I can infer from our interactions that she made you believe we were married, and that the marriage was a happy one. That the version of me Naomi placed in your memories was not too dissimilar from myself, though one I feel as if I have not been in… many centuries.” They hesitated, then added, compelled to honesty, “I don’t know what it was that made you love that version of me, and I’m sorry for… for enjoying the fruits of your love when I have not truly earned it.”

“Love isn’t earned. It’s given freely or it isn’t really love,” Sam said, startling Raphael with the close echo of his earlier words while still under Naomi’s influence. Perhaps that part had been real. They hoped so, because Sam’s love had been glorious and warm, the likes of which Raphael could barely remember from the Beginning of it all.

The human resumed pacing, and Raphael dared to look up and watch him, all that smooth motion and coiled power in muscles and sinew, a physical body honed to the peak of human warrior perfection. Raphael wondered how that physical conditioning had been explained in whatever life Naomi had created for him, or if it had simply been glossed over. They knew that the Raphael Sam remembered being married to had commented on the strength of his hands. Had they also spoken of his broad chest and powerful shoulders and tapered waist leading to long and slender legs–

“Why do you keep staring at me?”

Raphael tensed and hurriedly looked away. “I’m sorry, I did not intend to make you uncomfortable. This is the first time I have ever seen you in person, and…”

“Well, I can’t fault curiosity,” Sam sighed, reaching up to rub his eyes. “Guess I’m not making the best first impression.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” Raphael offered. “I cannot imagine my own first impression is much better, given Naomi and Bartholomew’s actions and whatever you may have heard from Castiel.”

“....Is Castiel okay?” Sam asked hesitantly. “And Dean?”

“They are both unharmed, and very concerned for you,” Raphael said. “Castiel alerted me to your disappearance–” By accusing them of having taken Sam, which had confused Raphael greatly, but they saw no reason to mention that part. “–and I agreed to search for you provided Castiel agreed to a temporary truce in the interim. That was when I learned from Bartholomew what had occurred.”

“So what happens now?”

“That’s up to you,” Raphael offered a hesitant smile in response to the surprise on the human’s face. “The damage done to your soul by my older brothers is healing, but is not yet fully healed. I can attempt to heal the rest of the damage if you will permit me, or you could remain here to let the Light of Heaven heal you more slowly, or I can return you to your brother and Castiel’s… for lack of a better term, ‘field medic’ skills.” Raphael winced. “Naturally, I would prefer to heal you myself–”

“Why?” Sam interrupted, still staring at Raphael with that strange, almost lost expression. “I’m just a demon-blooded abomination, Lucifer’s tainted true vessel… I would’ve thought you’d be eager to kick me out of Heaven again.”

“No one who makes it into Heaven on their own merit is kicked out,” Raphael said with a fierceness that startled them. They shook their head. “No, Sam. Demon blood or not, Lucifer’s vessel or not, each time you have died your soul has come to Heaven, from the first death in Cold Oak and each subsequent death barring those inflicted upon you in my brothers’ Cage. You _are_ worthy of being here.”

Sam seemed not to know what to do with that information, for he resumed pacing, running his hands back through his hair in his agitation. He seemed less angry now and more frustrated and confused, which Raphael took as progress. A moment later, he stopped again.

“If I ask you to take me back to Dean, what happens with the civil war?” he asked in a low voice. “And what happens if I stay?”

“Regardless of either choice, I will be speaking to Castiel about a permanent cessation of hostilities,” Raphael answered, guessing at the real root of the question. “This will require some negotiation to find terms acceptable to both sides, and so the only thing your decision will effect with regards to the war is whether those negotiations will take place on Earth or in Heaven as I would like to ask you to stand as mediator.”

“Me?” Sam blinked again. “Not another angel, like Joshua, or…?”

“Joshua dislikes the politics of running Heaven,” Raphael said delicately. “As well, I am an Archangel. Castiel and perhaps a few of his most loyal are the only ones who would call me on unreasonable decisions, but they would not be willing to do the same for Castiel and he is not presently inclined to listen to me, even about his own health and well-being. I would hope that he might listen to a human whom he has repeatedly declared to be his friend.”

“Could you heal me back on Earth, where Castiel can see what you’re doing and… learn more advanced healing skills?”

“I can.”

“Then please take me back to my brothers,” Sam said, the plural unmistakable in its intent of claiming Castiel alongside Dean as his family. He reached out a hand, and Raphael found themself placing their own hand in his outstretched palm, allowing him to pull them to their feet. “Let’s put an end to this war before more angels die.”

“As you wish.”

**F**LYING WITH RAPHAEL was a great deal different from being flown by Castiel, and not just because Raphael was holding his hand instead of just touching his forehead with two fingers. The Archangel's Grace was stronger, for one thing, more like how Gabriel's had felt that one time he'd let go of the illusion of Loki and faced down Lucifer to let Sam and Dean escape, but sharper, wilder, more like contained lightning than the swelling wave of a tsunami. His hand tingled where he held hers, too, not burning or freezing, charged but not painful. It was... nice.

They landed in the middle of Bobby's living room and were immediately hailed with an unsurprising flurry of cursing from the owner of the house. The raised shotgun wasn't a surprise either, but it still sent a bolt of alarm through Sam as he quickly put himself between the shotgun and--

_Right, Archangel,_ Sam thought as his face heated with embarrassment. He didn't move from his protective stance, however, hoping to reinforce the "don't attack" message as he said, "Easy, Bobby, we're friendly!"

"You know better than to just appear in a hunter's home, idjit!" Bobby huffed. The barrel of the shotgun jerked to indicate the Archangel Sam was still shielding. "Who's your friend, there? I'm going on faith and assuming an angel since she got you in past my wards."

"Yeah, uh..." Sam rubbed the back of his neck, wishing there was an easier way to go about this. "Promise not to shoot? Because I'm not letting you shoot her, even if it won't actually hurt her...."

"Sam..." Bobby's eyes narrowed. "Just who is it brought you here?"

"Perhaps I should make my own introductions, Sam?" Raphael murmured, side-stepping around him with a look that was equal parts amusement and a bizarre fondness and gratitude that puzzled Sam. "I am the Archangel Raphael, Robert Singer. I promise I come in peace."

"Raphael's the one who found me and got me out, not the one who took me in the first place," Sam hurried to add as Bobby's expression grew thunderous. "And I know I'm kinda taking it on faith that she told me the truth about that, and about wanting to negotiate a peace treaty with Castiel, which is why we came here first." Sam gave Bobby his best pleading expression as he added, "Come on, you know I wouldn't risk Dean's safety, even as sure as I am that this isn't some kind of trick or trap."

"I also know you know I ain't gonna just let something like this slide," Bobby growled. "You seriously expectin' me to just trust that this Archangel y'all have been saying killed Cas once and is warrin' with him now is on the up and up?"

"I am not asking for nor expecting your trust," Raphael said in an even tone that had Sam glancing over his shoulder at her face. The motion caught Raphael's attention, and she met his eyes with a soft look that pinged off the false memories he could still remember as familiar, but that still seemed odd to see nevertheless. "I am asking for your assistance and cooperation in creating a neutral space in which to hold the peace treaty negotiations with Sam as arbitrator."

"Not Dean?" Sam looked back in time to see as Bobby's eyebrows went up. "Thought you lot in Heaven were all about him being the Chosen One or some such."

"Dean was foretold to be Michael's True Vessel for the Apocalypse, as Sam was foretold to be Lucifer's," Raphael corrected in an incredibly dry tone. "Given the outcome of such, there are very few in Heaven who believe Dean Winchester to be some sort of 'chosen one' unless perhaps you mean 'the one who chose to be annoying'."

Bobby snorted, the sound barely audible above Sam's own desperately choked off laugh. Even with the memories Naomi had implanted showing Raphael's dry sense of humor, it was still startling to have it being displayed right there in front of him. A glance at Raphael showed that the Archangel looked ever so slightly pleased to have incited amusement in them, and Sam felt her hand brush his before she cleared her throat.

"I am aware that such a change in attitude towards Dean might imply a similar change in attitude towards Sam, but I fear that angels are just as susceptible to the problem of double standards as humans," Raphael went on, and Sam wasn't imagining the apologetic tone. "It is far too easy to believe the rumor of a negative than to allow the proof of a positive to override the belief. Angels are also generally much less capable of accepting that we might be wrong, a folly of our longevity and extensive pool of knowledge. As an Archangel, I believed myself to be more capable of discerning truth from rumor, and yet it still required coming face to face with Sam for me to accept the truth of him. If I am to be honest," and here, Raphael shot Sam a pained look, "there was a moment when I felt quite angry at Sam for being Lucifer's earthly echo, tainted by demon blood as Lucifer was tainted by Darkness, and yet Sam stands here uncorrupted, resisting the Darkness and stronger for it, while Lucifer has instead given in to that Darkness as an excuse for everything he has done."

"Sorry," Sam mumbled, lowering his eyes. Raphael moved, stepping around to stand in front of him. The height difference meant that she was looking up into his downturned eyes without much effort, but she still lifted one hand to cup his cheek.

"No, Sam," she said, soft and insistent. "_I_ am sorry. You bear no responsibility for my anger, nor any responsibility for Lucifer's actions." She tilted her head and smiled then, another expression that resonated in those false memories. "Shall I tell you a secret, Sam? Humanity may have been created with free will, but angels can develop it too. We simply have to work harder for it, and work harder to recognize it in ourselves when it does develop. In this manner, Castiel has outstripped all of his brethren, most likely due to your influence."

"Me?" Sam frowned. "Dean, sure, he's all about free will and not going along with stupid plans, but..."

"Dean is not the one who could have taught Castiel the full meaning of free will," Raphael disagreed. "Not so thoroughly and in so short a time. In the past, such development of free will was curtailed because angels would begin with the initial process of questioning orders and decisions, but not carry the process through to accepting responsibility for their own actions. Dean has shown plenty of insistence on the idea of doing what is right rather than what is legal or ordered, but his attitude is more in keeping with the idea that nature cannot be overcome, even in spite of the example you have set by rejecting the corruption of the demon blood and choosing to work towards being better, to do good in the world, to help people and strive constantly to make the world safer for people who may not even know you ever existed.

"You were _right_ when you told Jack Montgomery that it doesn't matter what you are, it matters what you do," she said, dark eyes sparking with Grace as they bore into Sam's. "You were _right_. And that is why I believe it was due to you that Castiel has finally fully developed his free will. And please do not apologize for that, either," she added, pressing one finger to Sam's lips when he started to speak, one eyebrow lifting. "For all the complications and challenges and vexations that angel has heaped upon me as a result, the evidence that it is high time it happened despite Naomi's best efforts is overwhelming."

"What's that mean for Cas, then?" Bobby spoke up from behind them. Sam jumped, his face heating in embarrassment. He'd actually forgotten Bobby was there for a moment. "If y'all been stopping angels from developing free will 'cause they take too long to get to the responsibility part, but Cas has gone and run the whole marathon as a sprint, where's that leave him?"

"At the moment, it leaves him the commander of the opposing faction of a civil war," Raphael answered in that dry tone again. "Assuming he agrees to negotiate the peace treaty, and agrees to cease his dealings with the demon known as Crowley, I would like to offer him Michael's previous place as Commander of the Host."

Silence descended then, the two humans left stunned by such an assertion. Sam found his voice first, and asked, "Wouldn't Cas have to be an Archangel for that?"

"No, not really," Raphael shook her head. "The position was traditionally held by Michael as the strongest of the soldiers, and no one challenged him because he was an Archangel, but it doesn't have to be. I'm certainly not suited for the position, even as an Archangel, nor do I want to hold it. If Father is indeed alive as Castiel believes and objects to my intended course of action, then He is welcome to come back and tell me so Himself."

"Hear, hear!"

Sam froze. That had been Dean's voice, he'd know it anywhere. Slowly, he turned his head towards the stairs. At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary, but then Sam noticed the shape of the shadows on the wall near the top of the stairs. His eyes narrowed. "Dean?"

"Oops," Dean muttered. There was a shuffling and scrape, and then Dean's feet were visible on the stairs, followed by the rest of him as he came down into the room, head ducked sheepishly. "So, uh, guess you know I'm here."

"Indeed," Raphael said, tone flat. Sam fumbled for her hand and found it clenched in a fist, though her fingers uncurled immediately to lace with his in a way Sam promised himself he'd think about _later_. "Shall I assume you were relaying our conversation to Castiel via prayer?"

"Nah, that was me," Bobby admitted. "Don't trust that idjit to pray right, and this seemed important."

"Hey!" Dean pouted. "I pray to Cas just fine!"

Now it was Sam's turn to snort. "Dean, your idea of praying to Cas is to yell at the sky for him to get down here, usually while insulting him. It's no wonder Rachel wasn't impressed with us, even if she missed the part where we know Cas has been running a war and doesn't have time to come down just to watch a game or have a beer with us."

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes, then looked over at Raphael. "Hey, uh, no hard feelings about the holy fire thing?"

"Should I not have 'hard feelings' over being trapped inside a ring of holy fire and left to survive or die at the whims of fate?" Raphael's voice was as cool as ice, though her hand was still relaxed in Sam's. "Trapped in a space barely large enough not to singe my wings from my shoulders, where the slightest movement would mean certain death, all of my senses reduced to the barest mortal minimum, unable to even call for help? Tell me, Dean Winchester, would you hold _hard feelings_ for someone who conspired to do that to _you_?"

"Yeah, well, you would'a killed Cas again if we hadn't trapped you," Dean muttered, though Sam noticed he looked shaken. He couldn't blame him, either. The description was certainly vivid, and not something Castiel had bothered to explain to either of them about holy fire. Raphael's fingers squeezing his drew his attention to how tight his grip on her hand had become and he made himself relax his grip, thumb brushing her skin in apology.

"Yes, I likely would have," Raphael answered. "I will not deny it, though I may render something of an apology to Castiel for having killed him the first time. At the time, I believed his actions to break prophecy were further signs that he was beyond even Naomi's efforts to correct. His actions following his resurrection have caused me to reconsider that stance."

"Yeah, I heard that part," Dean grumbled. He looked at Sam then, and Sam couldn't even begin to sort out all the emotions and thoughts on display. "I ain't saying you're wrong, either."

"But you are still experiencing resentment over the words and actions carried out by Sam's body while his soul was still in the Cage with my brothers," Raphael filled in. "Therefore it may take you some time to... I believe the phrase is 'get your head out of your ass', and get back to keeping the promise you made to treat Sam as an adult capable of making his own decisions?"

"I didn't exactly make the best decisions even with my soul," Sam felt compelled to point out.

"If you are referring to the decisions made leading up to the release of Lucifer from the Cage, then you made the decisions the combined forces of Hell _and_ Heaven were orchestrating for you to make," Raphael said, her tone much noticeably more gentle than it had been when speaking to Dean. "Why your brother continues to hold those choices against you, even without knowing the exact details of the altered voicemail you received prior to Ilchester--"

"Wait, what?" Dean interrupted. "What do you mean, altered voicemail?!"

"Did you really think any call you made while in Zachariah's company would go through unless it was allowed?" Raphael asked, both eyebrows up. "Did you think, knowing now how both Heaven and Hell needed you at odds with each other to set things in motion, Zachariah would have allowed Sam to hear your apology?"

"Dean apologized?" Sam blurted out, eyes wide. "Actually apologized, like, he said the words and everything?"

"Well, I said I owed you a beatdown for choosing Ruby over me, but yeah," Dean frowned. "You didn't hear that?"

"No!" Sam shook his head vigorously. "No, I heard..." He trailed off, the exact contents of that voicemail playing through his mind again. Raphael's grip on his hand tightened briefly and he swallowed, letting out a breath. "It doesn't matter what I heard. More of the same shit I heard in the detox hallucinations. If I'd heard you apologize, I never would have gone to Ilchester when I did, not until we'd fixed things between us."

"You would both do well to remember that, at the time, none of you knew that killing Lilith would break the final Seal," Raphael added. "Though there were still many among the angels who believed it would not matter if Sam knew the truth, Castiel was adamant that Sam not know if he was to do as foretold."

"_Cas_ was?" Sam flinched a little at hearing Dean speak in tandem with him, surprised that they could still have those moments of synchronicity when everything was still so shaking about their relationship. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean flinch, too, and wondered at that. Raphael was giving him that raised eyebrow look now.

"Castiel _had_ just been through reeducation," she reminded him. "Is it really so surprising that he would give up information to further Heaven's cause, however misguided we were at the time?"

"Something for which I believe I will be making reparations towards Sam for a considerable while longer," came the sound of Castiel's voice. "Even though my actions were following orders given to me under duress, they were still my actions, therefore I bear the responsibility to make amends for the damage caused."

"As I bear the responsibility to make amends for my actions," Raphael said, showing no surprise at Castiel's appearance. She'd probably felt him arrive and been ready for it ever since learning that Bobby was relaying the conversation. "Perhaps between the two of us we can convince our brothers and sisters to follow your example more closely and take responsibility for their own actions as they express and explore free will. _Without_ letting such explorations damage or destroy the earth and humanity."

"Loathe though I am to admit it, Naomi may still have work to do," Castiel answered with a grimace. "Though perhaps not in her current capacity."

"We can discuss options," Raphael said. "For now, shall we discuss the return of peace to Heaven and the Host?"

"Are you going to continue to hold Sam's hand while we do so?" Castiel asked. Sam nearly did a double take. Was Castiel _jealous_?

"If Sam will allow me to, then yes," Raphael answered, lifting her chin very slightly. Then she paused, tilting her head to one side, and added with a more thoughtful tone. "Hm. Well. Sam does have two hands. Perhaps he will be willing to hold both our hands, literally and metaphorically, for this discussion."

"Hang on," Dean interrupted. "Are you asking Sam to moderate a peace treaty or have a threesome?!"

"Dean!" Sam groaned.

"That is entirely up to Sam," Raphael said. The look she exchanged with Castiel was almost mischievous.

"Indeed it is," Castiel agreed and, to Sam's further bewilderment, stepped in close and held out a hand. "Sam?"

"Just promise me we can go on a real date that's not just a dream or implanted memories," Sam muttered, certain that his face could not get any redder even as he fumbled to take Castiel's hand. Castiel smiled up at him, a soft expression that Sam was sure he'd never seen from the angel before.

"I believe we can promise that," he said. He held out his other hand to Raphael, who barely hesitated before reaching out to take it.

"I believe we left dinner cooking 'upstairs'," she said. "It would be a shame to let Sam's efforts go to waste."

Between one heartbeat and the next, the three of them were gone.

**=End=**


End file.
